Do You Know Though?
by another-kind
Summary: Callie and Arizona are not on the same page, they aren't even on the same chapter.


"My wife and I are separating," Callie says that to the dishes she's scrubbing as she stands over the sink. No, that sounds wrong, feels wrong. Saying it aloud feels like spitting a cotton ball out through dry lips.

"My wife and I are divorcing." That's even worse. It feels like something acidic in the back of her throat has dropped down to her stomach with a sickening plonk. It twists and gnaws at her insides.

Callie takes her wet hands out of the sink and drags them back through her hair. The fact that she'd even _consider_ leaving Arizona seems ludicrous, ostensibly. She and her wife have't been so stable in a long time. The scars from the car crash that almost killed her and Sofia have healed to be nothing now but silvery lines, Arizona is up and functioning and living like she has two organic legs, and she can finally touch her wife's skin without seeing the imprints that _that_ _other woman_ left there the night of the storm. Mostly.

But something, _something_ feels wrong. Feels off-kilter. It's like she's moving clockwise and Arizona's racing the opposite way. They clash every once in a while, but otherwise they are two people moving completely independent of one another. This is not how she had envisioned married life. Actually, if she had known that married life would have consisted of a string of tragedies and heartache, she might have thought twice before putting herself through all the hassle.

Even then, before, she could justify any troubles with Arizona easily. The tragedies were catalysts and people get weird when they're hurt and scared. Now though? Arizona is working like a crazy person on a fetal fellowship, moving, always moving, and she has her own thing with Owen. The problem is, even though they're successful and out of hospital beds and counselor's offices, they have nothing together, none of their _things_ are shared things. They're so not on the same page it's ridiculous. They're not even on the same chapter.

Callie doesn't recognise the woman she wakes up next to every morning, and she's not sure if she wants to anymore.

###

Arizona slides her key into the lock at twenty minutes to eleven that night. Sofia's in bed and Callie is asleep, curled up on the couch. The door creaking open wakes her up. Normally, Callie would be in bed by now. She's in at four tomorrow morning. Arizona would have slipped in, maybe kissed her on the shoulder and then Callie would be gone before the blonde woke up.

Callie needs to talk to her wife tonight though. She needs to look at her wife and talk to her about something and engage with the fact that they are a married couple who are in love and are spending their lives together.

"Hey," she exhales sleepily, and rubs her eyes.

"Callie," Arizona smiles softly. "You're still up?"

"Yeah," Callie sighs thickly, swinging her legs up to sit on the couch. "I wanted see you."

"Well, I'm here," Arizona laughs quietly, confusedly, and Callie winces.

She tries again, "Come sit." She pats the space beside her.

Arizona stares at her for a moment before shrugging off her jacket. She joins Callie and turns in to face her.

"Is everything okay Cal?" She asks after a moment.

"Yeah, just uh-, how was your day?"

Arizona's keys are still in her hands and she talks about it. The rushing, the slaving for Dr. eyes are bright and focused and her blonde hair is bouncing and glinting under the light and she's gushing. Animated in a way that Callie hasn't seen in a while, and about something that has _nothing_ to do with her. Nothing to do with their family or another kid or anything recognisable.

Callie feels guilty about the jealous feeling that seethes through her. She does. But she can't help it. Arizona is finally happy and _doing things_ but the things that are making her happy are not Callie. They are new things, and this is a new Arizona. At least when Arizona was angry at her, when Arizona was doing things to hurt her, Callie felt like a factor. She was someone to her wife. There was passion there. Now her wife's acting like the old Arizona but it's because of all these new things. Callie should recognise her but she doesn't.

So she does the only thing she can. She cuts Arizona off mid-sentence and surges forward, kissing her soundly, insistently on the lips. Arizona squeaks, but reciprocates quickly, and then Callie is pulling herself on to the couch and pushing her wife backwards until she's lying down. She moves down to kiss the creamy skin of her throat, nipping and sucking, wanting to elicit some sound, some reaction from Arizona. Arizona whimpers, and Callie slips her hands under her shirt. She presses her palms into the blonde's abdomen, and Arizona hisses. She rakes her nails down her ribs, and Arizona moans.

Somewhere, Callie's brain is screaming. Arizona should stop her. Arizona should ask what's wrong, what's gotten into her. Thinking about why she hasn't is too scary, so she pulls her wife's shirt up and over her head. She has to remove her lips from Arizona's clavicle when she does, and sparkling blue eyes lock with her own. Her wife is breathtaking. That much certainly hasn't changed. Her eyes are arrestingly blue, darker now, and her lips are even pinker than usual. Her cheeks are flushed and her perfect chest is heaving, encased in a lacy navy bra. Callie can't keep eye contact so instead she studies her wife's form, traces her nails around her breasts, runs her thumbs over the smooth skin of her hips.

She's suddenly afraid that Arizona might say something, so she kisses her again, sucks and bites on her bottom lip until her good leg is wrapped around Callie's hips and she's arching upwards for more contact. Hands flutter to her hips, play with the bottom of her shirt, but Callie catches them and pins them over Arizona's head. She needs to keep control here.

She pops the button on black jeans and peels them down her wife's pale thighs, throwing them to join the shirt on the floor. She kneads her skin and digs her fingertips in. She doesn't bother to take the prosthetic off, even though she knows it will be uncomfortable for Arizona. She presses her lips to the taut skin of the blonde's stomach, listening to her wife moan and shift around. Arizona is so _responsive_, she's so fun to have sex with.

This should be slower, gentler, Callie knows, but when she pushes her hand into Arizona's underwear she's wet and warm and Callie slides her fingers straight inside her. She pumps slowly at first. Arizona is gasping and groaning and grabbing fistfuls of her hair. She drags Callie up and kisses her breathlessly, but Callie pulls away and sinks her teeth into the juncture of her shoulder. She quickens her pace and curls her fingers, and Arizona pulls the cushion from behind her with her other hand and screams into it. Callie's arm is aching but she pumps faster, harder, brushing against Arizona's clit with her thumb and pressing. Arizona comes with a tug of Callie's hair and a drawn-out moan. _Without_ saying her name.

###

Arizona is out like a light, of course. Callie stares at her, lying on the couch for a while. She gently undoes the strap on the prosthetic and slides it off. Then she gets up and switches off the lamp, and goes into their bedroom. She sleeps, eventually.

###

Callie sneaks through the living room at half three on her way to work. She knows that Arizona's still there, in her underwear on the couch, but she doesn't look at her. She'll wake up before Sofia does.

* * *

><p><em>Arizona is such a fun name to write. Sorry if this is not well received xx<em>


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